Living Together
by estrafalaria103
Summary: Where do the survivors go from here? WaltMike have sailed away, KateJackSawyer captured by the others, Hurley is wandering in the jungle, SayidJinSun are out on some boat, and LockeDesmondEko may very well have blown up. My version of Season 3. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**_Ahhh! Ahhhh! Season finale! Ahhh! For those who haven't seen the Season II finale, this will have spoilers all the way up there. . .and beyond! No, not really beyond. Just my idea of what might happen in the beyond._**

**_Also, I heard that Carlton promised there would be more love in the second season, so be prepared for a little more of that. A little Claire and Charlie, a little Sawyer/Kate/Jack, a little Tom and Mrs. Klugh, eh, eh? Haha. No worries. Also, for those who noticed the uber-cute guy in teh Others camp. . .yeah, he'll be in this story. Score!_**

**_And no, I don't own Lost. If I did, I would hopefully have a better idea of what all is going on._**

"Dad," Walt pulled anxiously at his father's sleeve, as his gaze peered over the watery horizon. "Do you really think they're going to let us go? Are they really?"

"Yeah, Walt," Michael kept his eyes ahead. He couldn't look at his son. The sight of those trusting eyes just brought back to him all that he had done. He'd killed two women, and sent three of his friends to what would likely prove to be their deaths. All for one boy. Walt was his son. . .but was he worth it?

"What's gonna happen to everyone else?" Walt asked. "Should we go back to the beach and try to save them, too?"

"Can't do that, son," Michael replied. He could almost feel the boy's eyes staring at his neck. He refused to turn.

"Dad, we don't have to do what they say," the boy insisted. "Come on. Let's go get Claire and the baby, or Mr. Locke. Let's get Vincent!"

"No!"

He hadn't meant to yell that loudly. Walt shrank away, practically pressing himself against the side of the small boat. Michael sighed, checked the coordinates again, and then turned to look at his son.

"Look, Walt, I'm sorry," he said. "It's just. . .I went through a lot to get you back, man. I'm not going to risk losing you again."

"Yeah," Walt nodded his head, clearly still undecided. "It just doesn't feel right."

"I know, son," Michael grabbed the wheel again. "Trust me, I know."

"How long do you think before we get rescued?" Walt asked. The enthusiasm that had been in his voice only moments earlier was gone, replaced by a tentative attempt at reconciliation. Michael smiled, just the tiniest bit.

"They said just to keep on this course," he said. "And we should—"

"Look!" Walt thrust a finger out toward a light on the horizon, cutting off his father's words. "Look at that! Is that a boat?"

Michael shaded his own eyes against the brilliant sun shining from just ahead. On the one hand he was desperately hoping that his son was right, that the Others were right, and that indeed their salvation was lying just ahead. At the same time, he was suspicious. The last time they'd expected to be rescued it hadn't turned out very well at all.

This boat was significantly bigger than the one belonging to the Others. He noticed that, thinking that perhaps this meant it was actually meant for the seas. Maybe. . .

"_Hola!_" yelled a dark-skinned man, leaning out of the ship's aft. "_Quien es? Ustedes son amigos o enemigos? Habla!"_

"I'm sorry, man," Michael held his hands up helplessly. "I don't speak that language. I speak English. English."

"_Hablamos inglés,_" Walt said clearly. His father turned to stare at him, and he just shrugged his shoulders. "I was reading all those magazines," he said.

"So sorry," the man said in a thick accent. "Are you all right? What are you doing out here?"

"We were shipwrecked," Michael explained. "On an island."

The man's head disappeared for a moment into the boat, and Michael's heart sank. Were they just going to be abandoned again? But hope springs eternal, and the man peered out again.

"Were there any others stranded with you?"

"Yeah," Walt began to say, but Michael clapped a hand over his son's mouth, silencing him for the moment.

"Just us and my wife. She died. . ."

The man seemed to consider this information for a moment.

"Could you take us back to the island?"

Once again, Michael shook his head no. "We've just been drifting out here at sea. I have no idea where we are."

"_Está bien_," the man said. He ducked inside, and a moment later a small gangway on the side of the ship opened, and the man stood just inside it, grasping the side of the door with one hand and reaching out with his other. "We still have some questions," he said. "But perhaps it would be better to discuss them inside."

"Yeah," Michael nodded his head. "C'mon Walt."

But the boy was miles ahead of his father, already standing at the side of their little boat and reaching out for a hand up. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to cry with relief. They'd been rescued. They'd finally been rescued.

* * *

"I don't get it," Claire said, as she hung up one of Charlie's shirts. She was a little disappointed at how dirty it still looked, even after having been washed. Still, at leasete she knew that it was clean.

"What don't you get?" Charlie asked. He was busy making funny faces at little Aaron, who giggled delightedly. Claire sighed.

"Why aren't you worried about them?" she asked. "Eko and Locke. Isn't it strange that they're not back yet?"

Charlie shrugged. "They're probably just busy cleaning up," he said. Claireturned on him immediately and the young man winced, realizing what he'd just said.

"Cleaning up?" she put her hands on her hips. Charlie sighed. Usually Claire was the most even-tempered girl on the island, but when she felt she'd been crossed, she could turn into Angry Claire in a second. Kind of like the Hulk, he thought. Only without turning green.

"What would they have to clean up?" she asked again. "You told me that nothing happened, just a tiny explosion that you were too close to."

"Right, yeah, that's all," he said, twitching a little. "Made a big mess, though. Pages of books everywhere. Tragic, really."

"Uh-huh," Claire stared at him for a moment, then walked quickly over to the crib and scooped up Aaron. Charlie's heart fell as he looked at her. Had he lost her trust so easily? Just when things had started going well. . .

But Claire just walked a few steps down the beach, and spoke quickly with Rose, before handing over the baby. Charlie stood up, trying fruitlessly to wipe the sand off his jeans. He frowned. What on earth was she doing?

"Alright," Claire said as she returned to him, a bright smile across her face. When he didn't move she rolled her eyes and nudged him lightly in the side. "Well, come on."

"Come on where?" he asked in confusion.

"We're going to the hatch," she said, before turning and heading into the jungle.

It took Charlie a moment to process what she'd just said, but when he did realize it, he ran after her.

"No, no!" he said, waving his hands uselessly. "No reason to go back there. Boring place. Just hitting a button. Oops, 108 minutes, time to hit it again. Tick tock, you know."

"What are you talking about, Charlie?" Claire asked. He sighed.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." He grabbed her shoulders. "I just know that it's not a good idea for us to bloody go back there."

Claire crossed her arms. She had that look in her eyes again. Charlie wanted to moan, to cover his eyes, to go to sleep, anything to avoid that look in her eyes. It was that look that meant he'd better 'fess up, or he was in the doghouse again.

"Well, if you're not going to go there with me, then you'd better tell me what went on," Claire shook her head, looking disappointed and maybe even a little scared. "Charlie, you can't tell me nothing happened. We all saw that light. We all. . .we all felt it. _Something_ happened in that hatch, and ever since, Eko and Locke haven't been back. Don't you want to know that they're okay?"

"Yeah, but. . ." Charlie sighed. "They're crazy, Claire, they're all crazy. Too much pushing the button, I reckon."

Claire shook her head, little clouds of blonde hair flying everywhere. "Well then I'm crazy, too," she said. "Because I'm going up there. Come with me."

And, of course, he did. Because she was Claire, and because she'd kissed him, and because, in some part of him, he did want to make sure that Eko was all right.

* * *

Jack wished that Sawyer would stop struggling. For the majority of the time they'd been hiking he'd been forced to listen to the sounds of the other man struggling, followed by the sounds of somebody hitting him, followed by a muttered oath, followed by a strangled sound from Kate, followed by another struggle.

If there was one thing he didn't want to have to deal with when they were finally allowed to rest for the night, it was a complaining Sawyer.

"Don't worry about your friend," a voice murmured in his ear. Jack jerked a little. It sounded like a woman, and a young one at that. He didn't remember there being a young woman among the Others. "They won't hurt him too badly," she said. "They need him."

Jack didn't say anything. He couldn't have, even if he had wanted to; the gag effectively took care of that.

It felt as though they'd been hiking for hours when Mr. Friendly finally ordered a halt. Jack tried to breathe in deeply. It probably hadn't been that long, the rational part of his brain said. Between the gag and the heavy burlap bag, it was hard to breathe. He was so dizzy and light-headed that fifteen minutes would have felt like hours.

"We'll stop here for the night," Mr. Friendly said. "Put the prisoners over to that side."

"Take off their bags," the familiar voice of Henry Gale added. "It won't matter if they see this."

"And their gags?" the girl asked.

"Go ahead," Gale agreed.

A moment later Jack found himself blinking at the harsh, fading sunlight as the bag was pulled off his head. A moment later the gag was removed. He leaned his head down, breathing in deeply, trying not to pass out at the sudden deluge of fresh smells and air.

Kate was not nearly as silent. The minute her gag was pulled off she turned to Sawyer. "Were you _trying_ to get us killed?" she hissed. The other man shrugged, and smiled a little wearily.

"Hell, Freckles," he said, coughing a little as he spoke. Jack peered at him closely, a little worried about how hoarse his voice sounded. "Don't you think if they wanted to kill us they'd have done it already?"

Kate sighed, and bowed her head a little. "Are you okay?" she asked again, after a moment. There was another pause, and then Sawyer's voice, still hoarse, saying "Yeah."

Kate sighed, lifted her head again, and turned to Jack. "You?" she asked. He nodded his head.

"Yeah. Kate. . ."

"It's okay," she said, forestalling any attempt at an apology. Jack closed his eyes a moment. This was his fault. He'd been so sure that he could outmaneuver Michael, that his plan with Sayid would work. But in the end he'd been tricked as well.

"I'll get us out of this," he promised. Kate nodded her head, though her eyes showed no sign that she believed in him. Sawyer just snorted.

"How?"

Jack realized despairingly that he didn't have an answer to that question. Meanwhile, the Others had been busy setting up camp and preparing a meal. A young girl came over to deliver it. Jack looked up at her, and realized immediately that it was the same girl who had tried to reassure them on their hike.

"Here," she said, setting down several nutrabars in front of them. "I'm sorry it's not much. . .we don't really have all that much."

"Thanks," Jack tried to smile a little, to show the gratitude he felt for her efforts. "It's fine."

"Yeah, just one problem, cupcake," Sawyer said. "How the hell we supposed to eat it with our hands all tied?"

The girl glanced back anxiously at the rest of her people, all seated around the fire and staring expectantly at her. She looked back at them nervously. "I don't know," she said. She ducked her head, as though in shame. "I'm sorry."

Kate stared at the girl the entire time, a peculiar expression on her face. She shook her head, as though clearing her mind of cobwebs.

"Well," Jack said slowly. "I guess we'll just have to feet each other." Suiting words to action, he scooted over toward the bars, and turned his back toward them. Reaching down, his questing fingers finally made contact with a bar. He hastily unwrapped it and then turned to Kate, leaning over as far as he could.

"This is just ridiculous," he heard Sawyer say behind him. But a moment later he felt the soft brush of Kate's hair on his back, and felt a tug as her teeth ripped at the bar.

When she'd finished one, she likewise picked one up behind her, and handed it to Jack. Sawyer just stared at the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Listen," Jack said softly as he leaned over, the motion of his mouth hidden from the Others by her back. "I'll count to three, and on the count of three we'll all run, in different directions. It's not the best plan, but if just one of us can get free. . ."

Kate gave no indication that she'd heard him. Jack smiled. Good girl. He was just about to lean over and give the same directions to Sawyer when Gale came striding over, an angry expression on his pinched face.

"You three wouldn't be planning an escape now, would you?" he asked, his voice dull and deadly. The firelight played over his features, turning what was once unattractive into a frightening mask. Kate shook her head, and Sawyer just spat in his direction. Gale, however, reserved all his attention for Jack. He reached behind him, and pulled out a gun. Sighting along it carefully, he aimed at Jack.

Kate gave a small gasp of surprise as he pulled the trigger, and Jack screamed as red pain shot down his leg. He stared down at a spreading patch of blood.

"There," Gale said. "Should take care of any escape plans. You'll live."

With those words he strode away, and spoke to one of the other men, who quickly stood up and headed over to them. Jack closed his eyes, sweat pouring down his face. He couldn't black out. . .he absolutely would _not_ allow himself to pass out. . .but it hurt so much. . .

"Hurts like a bitch, don't it?" Sawyer said. Jack turned, surprised to see a sympathizing look on the other man's face.

The Other knelt down in front of him. Taking out a knife, he deftly cut away at Jack's leg.

"Sorry, we didn't bring any pain meds with," he said, and just as quickly grabbed a pair of tweezers and jabbed them into Jack's leg. He screamed again. Kate glanced toward the remainder of the others.

Sawyer grunted, and she turned to look at them. Jack couldn't pay attention. . .the world was passing in and out in front of his eyes, fading to a hazy grey and then back to sharp focus. Sawyer winked. Kate drew in a breath and nodded.

It all happened too fast for Jack. One minute the man was smoothly operating on his leg, the next he'd been thrown off as Sawyer hurled his body toward the other man. Kate stood and was instantly gone, running somewhere in the jungle. Jack bit his lip, focusing on the lesser pain. Kate was escaping. . .thank God.

The Others sitting around the fire stood up and hurried over.

"What happened?" Gale snarled. Sawyer kicked him. The doctor shook his head on the ground. Blood was leaking from a cut in the side, presumably where it had hit a rock. "What happened?" Gale asked, ignoring Sawyer who was struggling to stand at his feet. Almost without a thought, he kicked the man in the head, throwing him back to the ground again.

The doctor still didn't answer, and the rest of the Others turned to Gale, looking for some kind of advice on what to do.

"The girl escaped," he snarled. Sawyer squirmed on the ground, somehow maneuvering to put his head next to Jack's chest. Jack squeezed his eyes again. Sounds were becoming muffled.

"Tom, Vieve, you go after her," he ordered.

"Play with me, here, doc," Sawyer hissed. Jack couldn't respond, but he did open his eyes. A moment later he wished he hadn't, as Sawyer sprang to his feet and kicked him sharply in the side.

"You got us in this mess!" he screamed. Mr. Friendly paused near the edge of the jungle, looking as Sawyer continued to attack Jack. "This is all your fault! You, you you!"

Two men grabbed Sawyer by the shoulder, trying to pull him back. Jack's brain suddenly clicked on, and he realized what the conman was trying to do. A distraction. They had to make as much of a distraction as they could to give Kate time to get away. He began to scream again. Gale glared down at him.

"It's just a bullet," he said. "Not as bad as a crossbow, I assure you. Tom! Vieve! What did I tell you?"

The black woman was on her knees at Jack's side, checking his pulse and wiping sweat off his face. She looked up at Gale, an angry expression on her face.

"Do you want this one to die?" she asked. Gale seemed a little startled at that. Mr. Friendly, meanwhile, hit Sawyer low in the back with a gun. Groaning, he dropped to his knees.

"Tom!" Gale yelled. Mr. Friendly glanced up at him, struggling to hold Sawyer's hands together.

"You want this one to escape, too?" he asked.

Gale glared at everyone. The girl ran over and sank down beside Jack. She looked at the black woman for a moment, and then turned to Gale.

"Don't worry, Daddy," she said softly. "We'll just find her in the morning."

Jack closed his eyes, and as he heard a loud thump and then the sound of a body falling to the ground beside him, he realized they'd gotten Sawyer. There was nothing more he could do to help Kate that night, so he closed his eyes, and finally gave in to the pain.


	2. Chapter 2

"So what do we do now?" Sun asked, still staring at their smoke signal, slowly rising. Sayid sighed.

"I do not know. I only hope that our friends are not walking into an ambush."

Jin walked up, gesturing frantically, and pointing toward the island. Sun shook her head, and muttered something back at him. Sayid just shook his head. He didn't really know what to do, or what to think. He was certain that he had found the Others camp, the one that Michael had been talking about. However, it was equally clear that their plan was now an impossibility.

"We go back," he announced. "There is nothing more we can do here."

Jin shook his head angrily, and pulled himself out of Sun's grasp. "Michael," he said insistently, pointing toward the island. "Sawyer. Jack. Kate. Others."

"I know," Sayid said patiently. "But we have no idea where they could be. We should return to the beach, to see if they require our assistance."

Jin was clearly unhappy with the decision, but when Sun repeated Sayid's words he seemed to recognize the wisdom of the decision. He headed over to the wheel of the ship, and began shifting to tack into the wind. Sun and Sayid had to duck under the boom as it swung back toward them.

"The others," Sun said softly. "Do you think they are all right?"

Sayid sighed. "I do not know. I wish I did, but. . .there is nothing we can do."

* * *

"Oh my God," Claire gasped, one hand flying up to her mouth as she stared. Nothing remained of the hatch, just some fragmented doors and fluttering book pages. Charlie stared for a moment, then lurched to the side of their self-forged path and vomited into the weeds. When he'd shakily stood again and wiped the bile off his chin, he turned around. Claire was still standing in the same position.

"Charlie. . ." she whispered. "How did you get out?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, I don't. . .come on, let's go back."

"No," she shook her head stubbornly. "I know it seems impossible, but maybe. . ." she looked up at Charlie, tears standing out in her eyes. "You survived, Charlie, maybe one of them did, too."

Charlie froze. He could see it all again. . .the metal pulling back, the zipper in his own pants pressing him to the wall. . .ducking as forks, spoons, and knives came careening toward him, diving out of the way of a filing cabinet. . .Eko leaving, heading back in, and his torturous struggle toward the door. . .then Locke and Eko appearing again, yelling at him to run. . .the couch with the iron bolts hurtling toward him. . .and then nothing but pain and blackness and. . .

A hand, held gently on his cheek. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring into Claire's beautiful blue ones. She rubbed a thumb over his cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He shuddered a little.

"I can't go back in there," Charlie said, still shaking. He sat up, shrugging off her gentle hands, and covered his face with his own. "I'm a bloody coward. . ."

"Charlie. . ." Claire sighed, and pushed his hands out of his face. She smiled at him, and his heart lifted a little at the light in her face. "You're not a coward. You went through something horrible."

"Yeah, well, so did you," he said. It was cruel, and her face shut off. She'd been getting over her ordeal with Ethan. . .recovering from frantic worry over Aaron, and he'd brought it all back. He was a sodding idiot. . .he couldn't ever just let a good thing be. He continued, in a softer voice, "you got through. You're stronger than me, Claire."

"Charlie," she took his two hands in her own. "Where's the heroin?"

This was it then, he thought. All this time and she didn't trust him. "Gone," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "I threw it in the ocean."

She smiled, stood up, and extended a hand to help him. "See?" she said brightly. "Not a coward after all. Come on, let's go back to the beach."

"But what about. . ." he motioned toward the hatch. Claire just grinned again.

"Oh, I'll be coming back," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "We can't just leave them here. But I won't force you to come with me."

Charlie wanted to go in there with her right there and then, to finally play the role of the hero, but he knew he couldn't. Regardless of what Claire told him, there was one definite truth. He was still weak.

* * *

Jack stared into the void. There was no light to prove that the world still existed. The stars were masked by clouds high in the sky, and the torches had all been put out. For the first time in his life, he was completely and utterly alone. No alcoholic father, no nagging mother, no desperate wife. No babies to watch for, or rashes to care for, no Charlie, no Sawyer, no Kate.

He willed himself not to cry. He clenched his jaw tightly, and took long, slow breaths. But he could still feel the panic building, the tears gathering behind closed eyelids.

One.

It was all his fault. He couldn't let himself forget that. He'd been so damn arrogant, thinking that somehow he could outsmart the Others. Hadn't they proved, time and time again, that they were smarter than him or the rest of the survivors? Yet he'd been so blindly proud. . .

Two.

And now others were suffer. Not just him and Sawyer, but the others back at the beach. What would they do without a doctor? Who would deliver Sun's baby? What if there were complications?

Three.

Maybe it didn't matter. He was a failure anyway. How had he helped on the island? Boone had died. . .he'd been helpless. The internal injuries had been too much. He'd been so tired. . .he'd misdiagnosed. And the boy had died.

Four.

Shannon was dead before he'd even gotten the chance to see her. But he was still guilty. She'd been telling people about seeing Walt, insisting that there were voices in the jungle. He'd ignored her, along with everyone else. But poor, beautiful Shannon. . .she'd only been telling the truth. She'd been trying to do what she thought was right, and she'd died for it.

Five.

Joanne. Steve. Boone. Shannon. Ana. Libby. Their names ran through his head. Gone. He took a deep breath. Nobody else would die. Not for him. He raised his head, and the tears were gone.

Counting worked every time. The fear was gone, the self-pity. All that was left was a resolution to escape, and to warn the others. If only he could figure out some way to do that. . .

"Psst."

His head jerked up, his eyes widened. There was somebody out there. A moment later green eyes appeared close in front of his. Jack blinked.

"Kate?"

"Shhh," the eyes darted to the side. "I've been following you guys for the past two days, trying to get a chance to get in here." The eyes disappeared for a moment. Jack felt fingers playing with the rope around his hands.

"Don't," he whispered. "It's too dangerous."

And then the rope was gone, and the eyes were back. "Don't be stupid, Jack," she said. "I'm not going to just leave you. Where's Sawyer?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. "They've kept us split up ever since taking us. I haven't even seen him since you escaped."

"I'm going to find him," she said. Jack reached out and grabbed her arm.

"No," he said firmly. "We can't risk them taking you, too."

She sighed. Jack forced himself to hold her gaze. He was right, and they both knew it. A moment later she ducked under his arm, and helped him to his feet. He bit back a cry as he attempted to put weight on his wounded leg.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Jack said. If Sawyer could pull out a bullet with his own fingers, get an infection, and still hike halfway across the island, he should be able to manage fine after a complete surgery and stitches.

Hiking away from the camp seemed to take forever. A dull fire kept building up in his leg, and it took everything he had not to groan. But Kate was merciless, refusing to let him rest until she personally felt they were safely away.

"Stay here," she ordered him, after depositing him on the ground. Jack chuckled a little at that. As if he had the option. He couldn't have followed her if he tried. She disappeared back into the jungle. Probably gone to cover our tracks, he thought with a weary sigh, allowing his head to fall back against a tree.

Or. . .he suddenly jerked back up as a horrified thought crossed his mind. She'd headed back to the camp to try and rescue Sawyer.

* * *

Kate meant just to cover their tracks. She didn't intend to head back to the camp; it was a ridiculous hour. There was no light to see by, and it was possible that the Others had noticed Jack's absence. They wouldn't be likely to leave their last remaining prisoner unguarded.

But somehow she found herself going just a little bit closer than she'd meant to, and then a moment later she was carefully glancing into hastily erected tents, looking for the telltale hint of color with his shirt, or the gleam from his hair.

Her mind kept telling her to return to her Jack, but her heart was screaming to find Sawyer.

Suddenly a pair of hands clapped over her mouth. Kate bit back the reflective scream. For once, she couldn't call for help.

"Get back to the doctor," a voice, the girl, hissed. Kate stiffened. She knew the girl meant to help. And maybe she could. A moment later the hands disappeared, and the girl stepped back to allow Kate to leave. Instead, she turned around.

"Where is he?" she asked. The girl shook her head.

"Kate, you can't," she insisted. "If you take him, they'll come after all three of you again. You won't have a chance of getting back."

Kate shook her head stubbornly. "I'm not going to leave without him," she insisted. The girl sighed, held a finger to her lips, and then gestured for Kate to follow her. The girls moved quietly through the camp, directly to a tent on the opposite end from where Jack had been held. Kate moved to duck in, but the girl shook her head, and put a hand on her shoulder. Confused, Kate looked up and saw him.

She drew in breath sharply. Memories came flooding back. He was kneeling at the edge of the jungle, head fallen forward, eyes closed. His hands were tied behind him, around the trunk of a tree. She fell to her knees beside him, and a trembling hand went up to push hair out of his face. He jerked up with a gasp, eyes trying desperately to focus on her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he rasped. Kate frowned, and then forced a smile onto her face, confused. Those were about the last words she'd expected to hear form him.

"I'm here to rescue you," she said softly.

"I don't need no damn rescue," he said. He looked away from her. Kate peered at him more closely, and then reached up again, and forced him to look into her eyes.

"Sawyer. . ." she said softly. He glared at her, hate clear in his eyes.

"Go on back to your doctor, Freckles," he said. "I'm staying here."

"You have to go," the girl whispered. "Please. Go now, before they wake up."

"Hurry on home," Sawyer growled. Kate shook her head. Why didn't he want to go with her? What had the Others done to him? Her eyes raked over the bruises on his head, the still-bleeding cut across one cheekbone, the cracked lip. From behind her she heard a low cough, and she straightened immediately.

"I'll come back for you," she promised.

"Don't."

There was a rustle of garments from behind her, and she jumped up and ran into the jungle. Her heart thudded hard within her chest. She'd get Jack back to the beach, and then she would come back and find him. She didn't know why Sawyer wouldn't want to come back with her, but she'd find out the reason, and then she'd convince him.


	3. Chapter 3

Hurley couldn't breathe. The air was thick, sticky and hot, and his shirt clung to him uncomfortably. His curly hair had achieved three times its usual volume, and in the humid breeze kept flying in front of his eyes and sticking to his face. He kept swallowing strands of it and coughing painfully.

But he had to keep going. He'd gotten hopelessly lost in the jungle, but that was turning out not to be as horrible as he'd imagined. He'd still been able to find mango and bananas. What scared him was not getting back to camp. What scared him was a new search party, more friends going out to find the Others. What scared him was accidentally ending up back on that pier again.

As he stumbled down what appeared to be a boar tracking trail, hoping that it had been blazed by Boone and Locke, and not by a Henry Gale and a Tom, he tried to push back the tidal wave of guilt that threatened to overpower him. First Libby had died because he couldn't remember a stupid blanket, and now Jack and Kate were in trouble. It might not have happened if he'd really gone back like he'd wanted to.

Dude, he thought, how could Michael have done that? Betrayed everyone?

A rustle began in the jungle just ahead of him, and he hastily raised his hands above his head. This was it, then. The moment of truth. Had he been a complete idiot and wandered back toward the Others camp? Or had he finally, after two days of walking in circles, made it back to the beach?

"Hurley!" Claire exclaimed excitedly as she stepped onto the trail in front of him. "You're back! That's wonderful! Where's Kate, and Jack?"

He shook his head, rivulets of sweat running through dust and grime. "Dude," he said solemnly, wiping away at the moisture with the back of an equally dirty hand. "I think we'd better get everyone together."

Claire looked at him with concern, and then nodded twice, briskly. "Okay," she agreed. "Come on, this way."

She set him down on the sand beside her tent, handed him a mango and a baby, and headed off down the beach, presumably to gather all of the survivors together. Hurley stared down at the two things in his hands, wondering how he was supposed to eat one without harming the other.

Suddenly a pair of giant arms attack him from the left, and a strange furry creature seemed to almost attach itself.

"Aaaaah!" Hurley roared, standing up. He dropped the mango, but somehow managed to retain his grasp on the now-screaming baby. "Get off!"

"Sorry, man," the furry creature said apologetically, backing off and holding up it's arms. "Just glad to have you back. Sayid got here yesterday, said it was some kind of trap. Just happy to see you, that's all."

Hurley sat back down, and looked morosely at the dirty slices of mango before looking up again to meet Charlie's eyes. "Yeah, well. . ." he shook his head. "We'll see how happy you are in, like, a minute."

It didn't take long to gather everyone together. Sayid had come running as soon as he'd heard the news, and crouched before Hurley, urging the larger man to reveal what had happened. But Hurley refused stubbornly to say anything before the larger group was together.

"All right, hon," Rose said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I think we're all here now. Tell us what it is that's so important."

"Dude," Hurley shook his head. "We're in a lot of trouble."

"Did you find the Others?" Sayid asked intensely. Hurley shook his head.

"Well. . .kinda," he said finally. "It's more like. . .they found us."

A chorus of "Where's Jack?" and "What happened to Kate?" followed, with a few "Did Michael find Walt?"s thrown in for good measure. Hurley shook his head.

"Dude!" he yelled. "They found us and. . .they made us walk the plank, man. We all had gags and were tied up and they kept kicking us. . ."

"How did you escape?" Charlie asked curiously. Hurley looked up with pain-filled eyes.

"They let me go," he said. He turned to look at everyone else. "But they still have Jack and Kate. They said we can't go over there," he swallowed hard. "I think they'll kill them if we try."

Sayid stood up angrily at that, and kicked at the sand. "Dammit!" he yelled. "Why didn't we see around this. I should have known it would be a trap."

"But what are we supposed to do without a doctor?" Scott asked. "What happens if something happens?" Everyone, confused and jarred by the sudden news, began to agree. Sayid took three deep breaths, and then with fists clenched at his side, turned to look at the group.

"We'll continue on," he said. "We begin by moving everyone to the caves."

People began to protest at this as well, but Sayid raised his hands and spoke over them. "I want to be rescued as much as any of you," he said insistently. "But to be rescued we need to be alive. We all move to the caves. We post sentries. We leave a small group of armed men on the beach during the night, to keep the signal strong. But most of all, we stay together. Hatch duty will be changed to five people, not two."

"Um, about that," Charlie said hesitantly, raising his hand. All eyes swerved to look at him. "The hatch kind of," he swallowed nervously. "It kind of blew up."

Another explosion of voices met that, ranging between people who were glad they'd no longer have to "hit a stupid button" to those who feared imminent death. Sayid just sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. We'll begin by moving to the caves. Charlie, you and I will go look at the hatch."

"And me," Claire insisted. "I'm going as well."

Sayid turned to look at her in surprise, before nodding his head. "Very well." He said. He turned to Neil, one of the few survivors who had managed to remain somewhat calm during the short meeting. "Make sure that everyone makes it to the caves," he said. "Nobody stays behind."

Neil nodded his head, and turned to address the survivors. "You heard the man!" he said. "Let's get moving!"

Sayid walked over and helped Charlie to his feet. "All right," he said softly. "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible. These people can not be left on their own."

* * *

"Kate, stop," Jack said, pulling his arm from off her shoulder and leaning heavily against a tree.

"Are you all right?" she asked, instantly dropping her backpack and pulling out a bottle of water. She walked toward him, and held it to his lips. Jack drank thankfully from it, finally raising a hand to signal it was enough. He rubbed the last dribbles of water off his chin.

"I'm fine," he said, breathing deeply. That wasn't the truth, and they both knew it. His leg felt like it was on fire, and although it had shown no signs of infection during his frequent checks, he knew that the healing process was being disrupted by their continuous hiking. Kate sighed.

"Well, it should only be another day or two," she said encouragingly. "Even going at this pace."

Jack laughed a little at that, harshly. "Right," he said. "At my pace. Listen, Kate, I want you to go ahead." She shook her head stubbornly. "Listen, I'll be fine. I'll hide out over here somewhere, let my leg heal a bit, and then I'll follow. You need to get back to camp. The people won't know what to do. They need to stick together, they need to. . ."

"Jack, shut up," she said, angrily stuffing the water bottle back into her backpack, the only one she'd thought to grab from the Others before dashing off after the disaster with Sawyer. "Sayid will be back there by now. He'll take care of things."

"It's too dangerous," Jack insisted. "The Others could find our trail, they could follow us. You'll be more likely to make it back on your own."

"No," Kate said, a note of finality in her voice. "I'm not leaving you."

As much as his head was telling her that she was wrong, there was a part of Jack that was very glad to hear that. Wearily, he reached out an arm to loop over her neck, and took in a long, slow breath in preparation for the pain that would shortly wrack his leg. But as he was looking down, he noticed a strange stone in the ground.

"Kate, wait," he said. "Look at that."

The woman knelt down before the stone, and reached out a questioning hand, which she pulled back at the last minute. She grinned up at Jack. "Better not," she said. Jack chuckled.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, standing up again and throwing her hair back over her shoulders. "I don't know," she said. Then, realizing this answer wouldn't be enough to suit the doctor, she smiled again. "It kind of looked like. . .a stone eye."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. It was strange, no doubt about it, but then on an island like this, it was no stranger than anything else. He shifted his weight, and with a soft moan of pain, continued the long hike through the jungle.

* * *

"What do you mean, they got away?" Henry Gale roared, holding Tom hard against a tree, his forearm cutting off the other man's circulation. Tom just shook his head, his face turning a strange shade of purple.

"Let him down," Vieve said, her voice exceptionally calm for the situation. Alex stood just beside the older woman, her eyes wide and nervously biting one fingernail. Gale turned to glare at them, before abruptly dropping Tom. He couldn't believe the incompetence of his men. They'd started off with three prisoners, and now they were down to one. And, for that matter, the least important one.

An urgent thought occured to him, and he turned to Mrs. Klugh. "We do still have Mr. Ford under our protection, do we not?" he hissed. She nodded her head, and motioned toward the far side of the camp.

Unable to fully trust the woman, Gale marched over himself. Sure enough, tied to the tree in the same position he'd been the night before was James Ford, looking worse for wear. A cruel smile crossed Gale's face. Just another day, he thought, and our faces will match.

He kicked into the man's gut, bring a grunt of pain. The more desired effect, however, was Ford looking up with red-rimmed eyes. He spat.

"Childish," Gale sneered, and then squatted down to put him eye level with the other man. He searched his face. "You know something, don't you?"

"I know your mother musta been blind," Ford growled. "Else she woulda killed something as ugly as you the day you came out."

Gale's smile widened. He reached out a hand, and carefully gouged it into the sensitive area at the base of the man's neck. He bit his lip, but surprisingly didn't yell out.

"Your girlfriend didn't come to rescue you," Gale mentioned thoughtfully. "Just the doctor. How does that make you feel?"

Ford didn't say a word, just continued to glare murderously.

"You must feel a bit betrayed," Gale mused. "But what would you say if we had a way you could get her back?"

Ford continued to maintain his mutinous silence, but Gale was pleased. He could see the way the man's eyes lit up with interest.

"Really," Gale continued. "We could get you even with all those asshole survivors. But we need your help."

Ford maintained his silence. Gale growled. This was getting a bit annoying. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and slashed off the man's ropes. Sawyer brought his hands forward, and massaged them gently, trying to restore circulation. He never took his eyes off Gale.

"What's more important," Gale said. "Is that if you help us, we can get you off this island."

His trump card worked. Ford froze for a moment, even forgetting about his aching hands.

"All right," he drawled slowly. "I bite. What do you want?"


	4. Chapter 4

**_Wow, thanks to everyone for all the reviews! I've just about outdone my other stories, which I've been working on much longer!_**

**_Anyway, I've gotten lots of worry about Sawyer and his actions. Just so you all know, I'm a huuuuge Sawyer fan, but that doesn't mean I'm going to make him all heroic. I'm going to try and have him act as consistently as possible with the way he is on the show. Which means he'll be more selfish than anything else, and definitely won't let anyone in on what's happening with him._**

**_That being said, I've also begun introducing some of the "extras." No complete OCs, though. . .these are all people we've either seen or heard about on the show! Oh, and I looked it up. . .Scott is dead, and Steve is alive. Jeez. Could things be any more confusing? Anyway, enjoy!_**

"Are your accomodations acceptable?" Rico asked. Michael looked up in surprise, his mouth full of a leg of lamb. Walt didn't even react, he just continued to focus on the meal beside them.

Upon being taken on the boat, they'd quickly been given their own cabin, and only a little later had been brought a meal fit for a king; or at least for survivors of a hideous plane crash.

"They're fine," Michael finally managed between bites.

"_Bien_," Rico said, sitting on the side of a bunk. "Then you wouldn't mind answering some of our questions."

"Questions?" Michael asked, choking a little. "I mean. . .no, no, of course not."

"Are you certain?" Rico asked, leaning forward and looking a bit confused. "You're looking a bit sickly."

"Yeah, just. . ." Michael shook his head. The truth was, he felt horrible. He'd been feely queasy and nauseous for the past few days, but he'd been attributing it to the guilt he felt over Ana Lucia. It had intensified on the boat with Walt. . .but then again, the guilt had been harder to bear. "I don't know, man, I think I've been coming down with some kinda bug."

The door crashed open, and the other Brazilian sailor popped his head in. "_Como es?" _he asked. Rico responded in a flurried mixture of Portugese and Spanish, too rapid for Michael to have followed along with, especially with his limited understanding. Rico silenced his friend with an abrupt bark of command, and then turned to face Michael again. He massaged his temples briefly.

"Were you injected by anything while you were on the island?" he asked.

Michael froze. A bite of lamb fell slowly off his raised fork, but he didn't even notice. How was he supposed to get around this one? While in the Others camp he had been injected by something. . .and he'd had his blood taken. . .not that he could tell the strangers any of this. He had to stick to the story.

But what happened if he had been injected with some kind of disease or something?

"No, man, I don't think so," he said finally, after a suspiciously long pause. "But I'm not sure exactly what we ate. We had to find fruits and stuff. . ."

"Right," Rico said. "Well, as soon as we get you back to land, we'll have a doctor examine you."

Michael nodded his head, trying not to let the word 'doctor' affect him at all. But he kept seeing Jack's face, gagged, staring at him from the pier. Walt glanced up at him and the father felt another stab of guilt knowing that his son was thinking the same thing.

"Well," Rico said. "As soon as you two have finished your meal, I think I'll need to ask you a few more questions, Michael. And we'll have to let Walt take some more tests."

"What?" Walt looked up, a panicked look on his face. "Not more tests! Dad, don't let them make me take more!"

Michael tried to calm his son down. Right there more information had been released than he'd like. He glanced up at Rico, wondering if the other man had caught anything strange in what his son had just said. The Brazilian wore a smile on his face, but other than that gave no reaction.

"What is it with all these tests?" Michael asked. "Who are you people? What are you doing out here?"

Rico's smile grew. "Well, those are some excellent questions," he said. "Let me put it this way. If you help us, then we are your friends. If you don't. . .well, let us just assume that you will be as helpful as possible, no?"

"Yeah," Michael nodded his head shakily, grabbing Walt's hand under the table. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

"What could have done this?" Sayid gasped, staring at the blank hole where the hatch had once been.

"Hm, don't know, good question, though!" Charlie said, brightly but just a bit too quickly. "Don't think I'd care to stay and find out!" he turned his body slightly, obviously preparing to leave, but neither Sayid nor Claire followed. He sighed, closed his eyes, and turned around. He could stand there just fine. . .it was the whole looking thing that made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Was anybody in here?" Sayid asked urgently. Claire elbowed Charlie in the side. He swallowed hard, and keeping his eyes tightly screwed shut replied,

"Yeah."

"Who?" Suddenly strong arms grasped Charlie's own, shaking them hard enough to make his eyes pop open. He stared into Sayid's own intense brown ones. Pretty eyes, he though absently, until he was shaken again.

"Eko," he finally spit out. "And Locke. And that crazy hatch guy. . .Desmond."

"May Allah be with them," Sayid breathed slowly. He stared at the hole in the ground, with a few metal supports poking out of it. "All right," He said, turning to Claire and Charlie. "I'm going to go in, see if I can find them. I need you to go back to the camp and get some flashlights, maybe a shovel."

"A flashlight?" Charlie asked. "With batteries? Where we going to find one of them?"

"Sawyer," Claire breathed. "I'll go get it."

Without another word she turned and hurried into the jungle. Charlie took a deep breath, and watched as Sayid departed down into the hole. Have to do this, he thought. They're my friends. . .can't just let them stay buried in there.

For the first time in almost a month, he desperately wanted a fix, and wished for a moment that he hadn't thrown the last of the heroin into the ocean. But no, he reminded himself, clenching his fists. It was better this way.

He forced himself to follow Sayid into the passageway.

The dust had settled down, he noted absently. He was actually able to breathe without too much coughing or choking. And there wasn't any crazy magnetism trying to pull him to one side or the other. Really, he thought, it wasn't that bad at all.

Then he saw a patch of blood along the wall. His own, he realized. Where the cabinet had slammed into him. He shuddered.

"Sayid?" he asked.

"Just ahead of you," the Iraqi man yelled back. Charlie nodded frantically, gaining strength from the knowledge that the other man was there as well. He pushed forward, still not seeing anyone ahead of him.

He walked into the main living area. He stared for a moment in dismay. The chair was pushed up against a wall, and the bookcases had fallen over. Broken records and scattered pages of books lined the entire floor. One of the bookcases seemed to be moving. Charlie fought back a scream.

"Sayid?" he yelled again.

"What is it, Charlie?"

He inched toward the bookcase. Somebody groaned beneath it.

"Sayid!" This time there was a panicked not in his voice. The Iraqi man's face appeared in the doorway, confusion written across it. He stared at Charlie, and then turned to look at the bookcase. Another groan issued from beneath it. While Charlie stood, shocked at the possibility of anyone being under the mess of mahogany and metal, Sayid ran forward and began pulling at the stacked books.

"Charlie," he said urgently, blowing dark curls away from his face. "You must help me."

Between the two men they were able to push the bookcase back upright. Beneath it lay a bloodied Locke.

"Bollocks," Charlie whispered in amazement, dropping to his knees beside the older man. "Do you think he's still. . ."

Sayid reached out toward the man's neck, and gingerly felt for a pulse. "He's still alive," he said. He leaned over further. "John. . .John, can you hear me?"

Blue eyes opened, and a tongue licked at parched lips. Sayid reached out a hand and Charlie, after a confused moment, placed a water bottle in it. The former soldier carefully poured the water over Locke's lips.

"John. . .where's Eko?" Charlie asked. Locke looked straight above him, blue eyes scanning the ceiling for some unknown picture.

"Desmond," he finally choked out. "He went downstairs. . .said he was going to save us all."

Sayid glanced at Charlie for a moment before placing a hand on Locke's head. "He has a fever," he said. "Come on. We have to get him out of here."

"Should we really be moving him?" Charlie asked. "Maybe we should wait for a doctor. . ."

"We don't have a doctor any more," Sayid yelled. Then, seeming to realize that he'd frightened Charlie, he calmed down. "And we can't spare anyone to stay here with him. Things are too dangerous. Come, we will get him back to the caves, and then we'll come to look for Eko and Desmond."

Carefully looping one of Locke's arms over each of their shoulders, they stood up and began the long trek to the caves.

* * *

Sullivan was panicking. Neil wasn't surprised by that. . .Sullivan was known to always have something wrong with him. Usually he just trooped off to Jack, who would give him a creme for this rash, or an aspirin for that ache. He'd never had to deal with the hypochondriac himself. . .and he was beginning to be very glad for that.

The problem was that Sullivan wasn't the only one going berserk. Lance had gone crazy when he'd heard that Jack, Kate and Sawyer had been taken, and in a mild panic had thrown all of his things into one backpack, effectively crushing his glasses. And Tracy was clutching onto Steve's arm, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. The one good thing about that, he mused, was that it pretty much confirmed everyone's suspicions that there was something more going on between the two.

The most shaken of all was Hurley, though. Neil had prodded him three times, trying to convince him to pack his things and move to the caves, but the most that he'd managed to elicit was a mild grunt. He'd finally given up and hit the man over the back of a head with a shoe.

"Let's go!" he yelled at Hurley. "Everyone else is getting ready to leave, we're just waiting on you."

"Why wait on me?" Hurley asked miserably. "I'm just bad luck."

"Because we like you, you fatass idiot!" Usually Neil was a bit more tactful, but the stress of Sayid leaving him in charge was getting to him. Before the plane crash he'd considered himself to be calm and resourceful. But with all the craziness of the island, he'd been happy to melt into the background and allow the so-called "A-Team" to handle the majority of the crises. Unfortunately, it's chief members were missing, and one of the few still around had a bad case of self-pity.

"Who died and made you king, dude?" Hurley asked. "You're just the Frogurt guy."

"Yeah, well, mild-mannered Frogurt man by day, crazy hike leader by night," Neil replied. "Come on. We need to get to those caves before it's dark."

He wasn't sure what it was that he'd said, but some phrase in there had caught Hurley's attention. He stood up, gathered his things, and joined the rest of the crew standing just at the edge of the jungle.

The hike to the caves didn't take long. Neil wasn't completely sure where it was himself, but Jin and Sun were near the front of the pack, and they showed no confusion on where to head. Really, Neil thought with relief, the entire leadership thing wasn't so difficult to master. Just talk tough, and people will listen.

"Hey, Neil," Sullivan said, walking up to him. "I got bit by some kind of bug on that hike. . .could you take a look at it?"

Neil just stared at him blankly. Sullivan didn't take the hint, though, and just continued to stand with wide-eyed innocence. "Sully," he said finally. "I work with frozen yogurt. I don't know the first thing about bug bites."

"Oh, well, okay. . ." the hypochondriac said doubtfully. "Uh. . .do you know someone else who might?"

"Neil! Neil?" a red-headed, confused man wander over. He blindly stumbled straight into Neil, who sighed. He was beginning to get a headache. "Neil? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Lance," he said. "It's me."

"Great. See, I have this problem," he said. "I lost my glasses. I think. . .I think I broke them, actually. And I can't really see all that well."

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow," Neil said apologetically. "We'll get a group together and go down to the beach. We'll rifle through some of Sawyer's stuff, see if we can't find you a matching pair."

"Hey, where is Sawyer?" Tracy asked suddenly, interest clear in her voice. Steve took a protective step closer to the woman.

"He's captured," Hurley muttered. "Told you that."

"Oh," Tracy's face fell.

"Who's guarding the fire?" Bernard asked suddenly. Neil nearly jumped, surprised at the older man's sudden appearance. Luckily Rose was just behind her husband, and put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"You're doing a great job, Neil," Rose said warmly, smiling a little. He relaxed a little. At least one person had some faith in him.

Faith which he didn't have in himself. He'd never really succeeded at much of anything. He'd only ended up in the Frogurt business because it was the only thing he'd ever managed to do. He'd worked in a Tast-E-Freeze since he was twelve years old, and it was the only place that hadn't fired him. His entire work crew was only about twenty people. He wasn't the man to be in charge!

A sudden crashing noise from outside sent everyone scuttling to the back of the cave. Neil wished he were back there huddling as well, but Sayid had told him to take care of the remaining survivors, and God damn it, that was what he was going to do.

"Who's there?" he yelled, as bravely as possible. His voice trembled.

"Others?" Jin asked, standing beside him. Neil straightened his back. For some reason, knowing that the Korean man was backing him up gave him more strength. More confidence.

"Help!" came the response. A woman's voice. Neil frowned. He almost recognized that voice. . .almost. . .

"Kate!" Hurley yelled, almost leaping forward. Wow, Neil thought. For somebody so heavy, he sure could move. Before anyone had the chance to slow him down, he'd barrelled into the jungle. Jin made a move to follow.

"No!" Neil yelled, thrusting out a hand. "We stay here and wait for them to come to us."

A moment later, they did just that. Kate came out of the brush first, looking tired and exhausted. But, Neil noted, still beautiful. Following close on her heels was Hurley, with a man slung over one shoulder.

"Who's there?" Lance asked. The practically blind man had grabbed up a stick and was waving it wildly in the air. "Is it safe?" Tracy moved over to shush the man.

Neil hurried forward to assist Hurley, and was amazed at who he found, smiling wearily at him.

"Jack," he gasped.

Hurley tearfully enfolded the four of them, Jack, Kate, Neil, and Jin into a massive bear hug.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Sorry, short chapter this time. I kind of forgot in the last chapter that Sawyer has to get back to the Losties. oops. A little Skate/Jate. . .but which one. ooooooooh. . .the questions jsut keep building!_**

Jack blinked slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the caves. He sat up, touching his aching head, trying to remember how he'd ended up home. He remembered most of it so clearly. . .Michael's betrayal, the gunshot, Sawyer being dragged away, yelling something at the top of his lungs. . .and then it got fuzzier. Kate coming. . .walking through the jungle. . .

Kate! Had she made it back all right? He couldn't remember.

Strong hands pushed his chest hard, shoving him back onto his pallet. He struggled for a moment, before recognizing the dark brown eyes peering at him. "Sayid?"

"You are fine, Jack," Sayid said. "You're home again."

Jack laughed a little at that. "Home?" It was true in a way, he supposed. The caves were about the closest thng to a home that he'd had in months. . .years, really, if he was willing to admit it to himself. But he wasn't quite that far yet.

"Is everyone. . ."

Sayid interrupted him before he could even finish the sentence. "Kate is fine as well. She is just resting. But as soon as you have recovered, we could use your help."

Jack sighed. Yeah, it was home sweet home after all, with someone always needing saving. "What's wrong?"

"The hatch. . ." Sayid sighed. "Did you notice the light and the sound?"

"Kind of hard not to," Jack said.

"That was the hatch. It's. . .it's been destroyed," Sayid said, Jack nodded. He wasn't sure how he was expected to feel about that. Apparently Sayid was expecting him to be upset, to do something rash, but instead he just felt relief. No hatch, and the world was still continuing. John Locke's faith had proven groundless after all.

"John and Eko were in there when it happened," Sayid continued. "I've done what I can for them, but my abilities are very limited."

Jack nodded, and when he tried to sit up this time, Sayid allowed him to. His leg felt better, he noticed with some surprise. At least one bit of good news, then. Still, he had no desire to stand on it and start marching through the jungle. A vast wave of exhaustion rolled over him, and he closed his eyes. Just for a minute, he thought. Just to get over the dizziness, and then back to work.

A moment later he'd fallen asleep again. Sayid smiled slightly, and maneuvered the doctor back into a lying down position. Locke and Eko could wait. Their conditions were serious, but not life-threatening, at least not at the moment.

He felt somewhat guilty for not having mentioned Desmond. Theoretically the man had saved everyone's life. But he still hadn't been found, and the last thing anyone needed was their doctor panicking.

Despite their best efforts, they still hadn't been able to find Desmond, or his body. Locke had said something about him going down, but Sayid couldn't remember a lower level to the hatch. He was planning on heading up there again to continue the search, after checking in with Neil, but didn't hold much luck. The poor man probably wouldn't be found until Locke had regained consciousness, and could explain what he'd meant.

It wasn't hard to find Neil among all of the survivors. He was the one with a huge group of people clustered around, all shooting anxious, confused questions.

"How are things?" he asked. Neil glanced at him, a wan smile on his too-thin face.

"Just peachy keen," he said. "Can't anyone on this island think for himself?"

"Not many," Sayid said wryly. "How's Kate?"

"The hot chick? Sun had to give her some kind of plant thing to calm her down. She kept trying to run into the jungle." Somebody grabbed at Neil's sleeve, and he looked down. "All right, Lance, calm down. You, me, Bernard, and Jin will head down to the beach in fifteen minutes. The rest of you, write down anything that you might need recovered from down there. I'll set up a watch tonight when I return."

Neil was still talking, but Sayid didn't catch the rest of it. Why would Kate be trying to run into the jungle again? And, for that matter, what exactly had happened out there? Hurley had given them the basic details, but he hadn't been expecting to see the rest of his friends this soon, if ever again.

Kate smiled at him groggily when he walked in. Sun looked up anxiously, but seemed to calm at Sayid's familiar face, and resumed mashing whatever plant mixture she was working with.

"Hi, Sayid," Kate said. "Sun gave me happy medicine."

"Yes, I can see that," he said, crouching beside her and giving her hand a warm squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Kate said, a little of her normal stubbornness coming through. "I was the first to escape. Then they shot Jack."

"The Others?" Sayid asked. "The Others shot Jack?"

"Yes," Kate nodded her head. "They said it would keep us from escaping," she paused, and then added a little thoughtfully. "We did anyway, though."

Sayid look up at Sun. "What exactly did you give her?"

"It's a calming herbal remedy," Sun replied. "It will be wearing off shortly, though. I will have to make more."

"No," Sayid shook his head. "She's going to have to deal with whatever has her so frightened. Now, Kate, where's Sawyer?"

She frowned for a moment, her pretty face screwing up into confused lines. "I don't know," she said. "I wanted to go back and save him, too. Jack said no, but I wanted to," she yawned briefly. "I think I love him."

"Love who?" Sayid asked, confused by the random comment. He didn't see what it had to do with the attempted rescue. "Jack or Sawyer?"

"Uh-hmm," Kate said, sounding almost sleepy now. "I went back anyway. But Sawyer said he didn't want to be saved. He wanted to stay there. I hope he wasn't trying to be a hero." Her eyes began to flutter shut sleepily. "Do you think he's a hero, Sayid?"

The Iraqi just smiled at her, until she was completely asleep, and then stood up, incredibly worried. Over the past months he had come to respect Sawyer, even like him a bit. But he didn't trust him at all. And if he preferred to stay with the Others instead of returning to the survivors. . .

Sayid didn't see how that could be the mark of a hero at all.

* * *

"I don't see why y'all didn't try and take the One Man Army," Ford said around a mouthful of fish. He spat out small bones almost angrily. Gale watched him with slight amusement and disdain. Ethan and the others who had been on watch insisted the Ford was among the smartest of the survivors. But all he had done so far is proved his spineless lack of loyalty and a desire to ask ridiculous questions.

"Mr. Jarrah has not done anything bad on the island," he said simply. "He has tried to uphold all that is good."

"Well, maybe you weren't there," Ford said, loudly licking his fingers. "But he's a damn torturer. Practically took all my nails off."

"Yes, we did see that," Gale said, bored at all of the small talk. It was necessary, however, if only to continue the pretense of liking Ford and wanting him to help. In all reality, there was little the hillbilly could do for them that they couldn't do for themselves. At the same time, he should make it all so much easier. "However, he repented for that himself, and since then has dedicated himself to a greater good. Even at the sake of forgoing his own revenge."

"Whatever you say, jefe," Ford said. "But you made a mistake with the doc, then. He ain't never done nothing that wasn't good."

Gale smiled a little at that, but didn't answer. The good doctor, so admired and loved by the survivors, was their favorite subject. A man who did good, but for all the wrong reasons. It was precisely the sort of thing he and his companions had been sent to the island to investigate. It was such a shame, really, that when they finally had subjects again after five years of nothing but button-pushers, that most of the saps were so ridiculously boring. Nice people didn't yield good research. Proud, arrogant doctors, on the other hand. . .

"I think you've had enough to eat," Gale said, snapping his fingers. Tom instantly began clearing the food away from the protesting Ford.

"I ain't done with that!" he complained, grasping at a platter of bananas that was pulled out of his reach.

"Now, now, Mr. Ford," Gale said, his eyes lighting up a little. Here was where the fun part really began. "You know as well as I do that the sooner we get you back to your little friends from the plane, the sooner we can get you off this island."

Ford nodded his head, and Gale almost wanted to laugh. The 815 survivors were just too easy. They'd played Dawson like a violin, and from what he was seeing in Ford, the man wouldn't be much harder.

Ford stood, and casually dusted off his pants, before beginning to head into the jungle. Just at the verge, he turned around, and sized Gale up. "Why do y'all trust me so much?"

"We don't," Gale replied. Ford looked like he was about to speak, but Gale cut him off, not in the mood for more of the man's stupid comments. "Because we have what you want. And because if you fail us, we kill you."

Ford nodded his head, and smiled a little, but thankfully said nothing as he headed back into the jungle.

"Do you really think he'll do it?" Alex asked, coming to stand beside him. Gale peered down at his daughter, considering. The girl had proven herself useful, time and again, and he never regretted. . .adopting. . .her from her psychotic mother. But there were moments when he had to doubt her dedication to their movement, and to him.

"He'll do it," he said finally. "Because that right there is a man who has nothing to lose."


	6. Chapter 6

**_Whoo, we're almost done! Only a chapter or two left to go! Hip hip hurrah and hurray!_**

**_And yeah, I never got around to putting that hott Other in here. . .I just fell too much in love with Neil the Frogurt guy. Why? Couldn't tell you. Definitely a good thing they're planning to introduce new characters next season. . .we're running kind of low. We went from 14 first season to 16 to this season, and now we're down to 12. 9 if you think that Locke, Eko and Desmond bit the dust Eiiii._**

**_Anyway. One promise to all you Jaters and Skaters. Kate will choose one or the other by the end of the story. Not by the end of the chapter, but the story. So. . .let the suspense build!_**

"Hey, Jack."

The doctor looked up from Sullivan's "possibly infected" papercut with a smile at the familiar voice. He hadn't seen Kate since they'd gotten back. . .he'd been kept so busy with helping out with the other survivors, who had miraculously all gotten themselves a half dozen minor injuries in his absence.

"Kate," he nodded, trying to hide his joy in seeing her. As inconspicuously as possible, he glanced at her out the corner of his eyes, pretending to be paying an excessive amount of attention to a barely bleeding finger.

"Am I going to live, doc?" Sullivan asked nervously. "It's not a weird disease, or anything, is it?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Jack said reassuringly, patting the man on the shoulder. Then, feeling a bit wicked and annoyed at having to treat a frickin' papercut, he said "I wouldn't use it for much lifting for the next few days, but just rest it and you'll be fine."

"All right," Sullivan said, finally allowing a smile across his face. "Thanks a lot. Good to have you back, doc."

"I'll say," Neil said, coming up from behind. Jack had to almost suppress a growl of annoyance. All that he really wanted to do was talk to Kate, make sure she was all right, and find out exactly how he had escaped. But it seemed like no one was going to give him a moment to himself.

"Hey, Neil," Kate said, glancing at Jack as though reminding him of his responsibilities. Jack suppressed an exasperated sigh. As if he needed to be reminded.

"Listen, Jack, I'm getting a group together to head down to the beach," Neil said. "We'll be down there for a while. . .watching the fire."

"Sounds good," Jack said, nodding. The truth was that it did sound good. As much as he wasn't expecting a rescue, he knew that the hope of many people was riding on a signal fire, and to take away that possibility was to take away their reason for living.

"Here's the thing," Neil said, cracking his knuckles. "We kind of need guns."

"Oh," Jack closed his eyes for a minute. What exactly had happened to the guns? Sayid had been given one. . .and they'd taken seven with them. . .that left three with whereabouts unknown.

"I think they're still in Sawyer's. . .stash," Kate said. Jack stared at her for a moment. It was pretty clear that she'd been going to say something else for a minute there. She was covering something, but what? "I'll go get them."

Before Jack had the chance to ask her to stay for a minute, or to volunteer to go with her, she'd disappeared. A small smile tugged at his lips. For all that he liked to take care of Kate, he had to admit that she definitely had a will of her own, and there wasn't any guy getting in her way. "Who are you taking?" he asked, turning back to Neil.

"Not really sure," he said, almost unwillingly. "Jin won't leave Sun. Bernard wants to come, but he's so old. . .Scott said he'd come."

"Isn't Scott dead?" Jack asked.

"That was Steve, man!" A middle-aged, nondescript man said. "Damn, why can't anyone tell us apart?"

"Sorry, Scott," Jack said. He stared at the man, willing himself to remember who he was. But the second the man had turned away he'd already forgiven. So much for that.

"I'm coming," A girl suddenly said, coming up to stand beside them. Jack glanced at her, trying to remember her name. Janice . . .Janelle. . .Jenny. . .he had to give up. All that he could remember were some of Sawyer's less than complimentary names for her: Midriff, Six Pack, Pretty Woman, Roxanne. And the fact that Kate was always complaining that the woman couldn't seem to find a shirt that didn't reveal her stomach.

Neil turned to her. "Sorry, Janelle," he said. "We're trying to take people who know their way around a gun."

Janelle rolled her eyes. "And how often have you used a gun, buster?"

Neil turned back to Jack. "So you'll be okay taking care of the caves by yourself?"

Jack chuckled a little at that. "I've managed the past three months," he said. "I think I'll be okay."

"Yeah, just. . .you know," Neil said, gesturing awkwardly toward Jack's leg. The doctor touched his wound tenderly. It seemed to be healing fairly well, though without the miraculous qualities of John's leg, or Sawyer's bullet wound. Still, it was giving him less problems every day.

"I'll be fine," Jack said, and then, as an afterthought, while Neil turned around and Janelle practically leeched onto his shoulder, added "You did a good job around here." Neil turned around, and smiled. Jack felt somewhat proud for having added the comment. Sometimes people just needed to be appreciated.

As Lance headed over, bright blood streaming from his nose, almost as bright a red as his hair, he sighed. He knew that better than anyone.

* * *

Michael sat anxiously in the cabin, listening to the arguing voices outside. He was beginning to get the definite impression that the two Brazilians weren't the simple fishermen that they claimed to be. Some of the questions they had asked were just a little too strange.

"Are you absolutely certain that you don't know where your island is?" Rico asked, bursting through the doorway. His friend stood just behind him, as silent as ever. Michael groaned.

"Man, I told you. We've just been drifting for. . .for forever!"

"Where did you find the boat?" Rico asked.

"We just. . .we just found it!" Michael protested.

"Why didn't you pack any of your clothing? Nothing from the crash?"

"Look, man, I'm not talking to you about this," Michael said desperately. They were just asking too many questions. He should have been expecting something like this, but somehow he hadn't been. . .he hadn't had time, with his betrayal, escape, and Walt. It was too much. "I'm glad you guys found us, but can't you just leave us alone? Where's my son?"

"Right here, Dad," Walt said, walking over and sitting beside Michael.

"_Que hacemos con estes traidores?"_ Mr. Silent asked. Rico turned to him, and said, in English.

"We'll take them to Ms. Widmore. After all, if she really wants answers, she'll figure out a way to get them."

The two walked out of the room, leaving Michael alone with his shaking son.

"Dad?" Walt asked. "What are they going to do with us?"

"I don't know," Walt said, honestly. He tried not to sound scared. He gave the boy a half-hug, and said, with false enthusiasm "We'll be fine."

"Dad?" Walt asked again after another moment. "Why can't we just tell them about the island? Don't we want everyone else to get rescued?"

"It's complicated," Michael said. He only wished he had known how complicated it would be, exactly, back when he'd taken the boat and left.

* * *

Locke blinked his way into consciousness slowly. A drop of water fell on his face, and he twitched a little. Even that little movement brought a fresh wave of pain, and he groaned a little. A moment later a concerned face was hovering over his.

"John, you are awake!" Sayid said, a little obviously, Locke thought. Then again, Sayid had a tendency to announce the obvious. It was usually followed by an astute judgement, however, giving him a certain degree of respect for the man. A respect he usually reserved only for himself.

"John," Sayid said. "Earlier, when we found you. You said something about Desmond going into the basement. What did you mean?"

"I don't know," Locke said. It was only half a lie. The pounding pain in his head seemed to make all normal thought impossible. What had happened, exactly? How had he ended up back in the caves?

"I'll go get Jack," Sayid said. The word Jack brought a rush of memory back to Locke. Jack, who never believed him, who fought with him over the hatch, who had decided to go off into the jungle without him. Though he knew that there was a possibility that Jack could make some of the aches and pains dull, he preferred the pain to having to face the questions of the doctor.

"No," he said, abruptly, and a moment later Sayid reappeared at his side. "I'm fine. Here, help me up and we'll go back to the hatch."

"No," Sayid said. "Tell me where to look. You are too weak to go back yourself."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Locke roared. He winced. Hadn't someone else just said those words to him recently? What had _happened_?

"I am not telling you what to do," Sayid said calmly. His tone was low and pleasant, almost as though speaking to a recalcitrant child. "I am telling you that physically you are not in any condition to go walking through the jungle."

"Desmond. . ." Locke said. Desmond. . .he had gone down somewhere, saying something about pulling his finger out of a dam. But they'd been in the hatch, hadn't they been? There wasn't any water in the hatch, other than the sink and the shower. . .

"Yes, Desmond, exactly!" Sayid said, sounding almost excited. "We are trying to find him. Do you know where he might be?"

"He said something about shutting down the system," Locke said, closing his eyes. Blocking out light seemed to ease some of the pressure on his brain. "He went. . .behind the computer. . .with the button."

"The computer," Sayid said, and then muttered something angrily under his breath. "We were looking in the wrong place."

He stood up, and Locke panicked a little at the idea that the one person who had some idea what might be going on was leaving. Sayid looked down at him.

"What happened?" Locke asked, frustrated. Why the hell couldn't he remember anything?

"Ask Charlie," Sayid said. "Maybe he can assist you."

Well, Locke thought, that was a good idea in theory, but how was he supposed to ask Charlie anything when he couldn't even move? It was pretty difficult to ask someone a question when physically he couldn't find the other man. It wasn't like Sayid to be so thoughtless.

But apparently he hadn't been, because within a minute a pair of hushed voices began to speak.

"Do you think he's asleep?"

"But Sayid was just talking to him. He said that he wanted to see you."

"I have no bloody idea why he'd want to see me. We aren't exactly friends, Claire."

"You were there, Charlie. Maybe he wants to talk to someone who was there with him."

"Claire?" Locke asked, almost afraid to open his eyes and have it all turn out to be a dream. "Charlie?"

"Yes, John, we're here," the calming Australian voice said. Locke took a long, shuddering breath and opened his eyes. He smiled slightly at glare, and then turned his gaze toward Charlie, who was standing there looking almost bitter.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You and Desmond decided not to hit the button," Charlie said. "Eko decided he wanted to. And then all of a sudden, things went crazy."

Those words sparked something within Locke, and all of a sudden it all came flashing back. He'd refused to hit the button. More than that, he'd destroyed the computer. And it had all turned out so wrong. . .the electromagnetism had been frighteningly small. . .everything in the hatch had begun flying through the air. . .that bright light, and the sound. . .and then the bookcase, and he didn't remember anything after that.

But he did remember the look on Desmond's face as he'd disappeared down a small trapdoor. And he remembered Eko coming toward him, and the intense sense of guilt.

"Oh my God," Locke said, turning to stare directly at the ceiling. He couldn't stand to see any pity in their eyes. "What did I do?"

* * *

Kate stared at the small collection of tarp and rubbish that comprised Sawyer's dwelling. She almost didn't want to go in. That would mean admitting that Sawyer was really gone, and the possibility that he wasn't coming back anymore. She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling her emotions to go in.

It was just that she hadn't had the chance to say good-bye. Not a real one, not a final one. She'd been given a second chance when Eko had dragged him into the hatch, but she'd messed it up. Again.

Well, she wasn't going to mess things up with Jack, and she wasn't going to mess up the possibility of continuing life on the island. She threw back her shoulders, lifted her head, and stepped into the hatch.

Dropping to her knees, Kate pushed sand out of the way until she'd revealed the piece of the plane that covered Sawyer's stack. She lifted it, and sure enough three guns were staring up at her.

Rather than just grabbing the guns, she couldn't help but looking through the other things in there. Some disgusting magazines, no surprise there. A random collection of books. A pair of red, lacy panties that she didn't even want to think about, and a letter. Reaching down and grabbing the letter, Kate carefully unfolded it. Sure enough, it was the same letter he'd forced her to read before. But why was it still in his tent? She refolded it, and put it in her pocket, before grabbing the three guns, and standing up.

She'd wasted too much time as it was. Neil would be wanting to get down to the beach as soon as possible, and for that he'd want the guns.

"Good-bye, Sawyer," Kate said, looking around the room slowly. She stuck one gun in the waistband of her pants, and held the other two loosely in her hands as she turned to leave.

"Usually it works better if you say good-bye to a person, instead of his stuff."

She dropped the guns on the ground, and slowly turned around. For a moment she had to wonder if she was hallucinating. But then the breeze brought a whiff of a familiar cologne to her nose, and she knew without a doubt that he was really standing there in front of her. Bloody, bruised, and sweaty, with a small smile pulling at his lips, but as real as she was. Sawyer was back.

Suddenly she choked, and was surprised to realize that she was crying. Within half a second, Sawyer had taken a series of long steps, and come to her side. He gathered her into his arms.

"Hell, Freckles, this is supposed to be a happy moment," he said. Kate nodded her head, wiped away her tears on the front of his shirt, and then stepped back a moment to look at him. Her heart spasmed a little at the sight of his face, all cut and bruised. And then she remembered where she'd last seen him. Before she had the chance to think about her action, she'd slapped him hard across the face.

"Why didn't you let me help you?" she asked. Sawyer screwed up his face, and gently massaged one cheek.

"Didn't want them to catch you," he said easily. "Don't tell me it was easy for you and the doc to get away. Least I was able to keep them. . .occupied."

Kate shook her head, and crossed her arms, refusing to allow herself to step closer to him, partly because he stank, and partly because she was afraid of what she might do. "How did you escape?"

"Waited around a couple a days, til they got used to me," Sawyer shrugged. "Left in the night. Easy as pie, sugar."

Something about that didn't ring right. Sawyer looked past her, toward the hut she'd just left. The smile on his face died away.

"Gave up on me that easy?"

"We needed the guns," she said, a little uncomfortably. Remembering the guns, she turned around to where she'd dropped them, and quickly picked them up again. When she turned, Sawyer was staring at them.

"I'm gonna need those, sassafras," he drawled. Kate stared at him, and he sighed, glancing up at the sky for a moment. "You think our friends out there gonna just let the three of us get away?" he asked. "After all the trouble they went to, to get us? They'll come for us, Kate. So unless you want a merry troup of khacki-wearing commandos marching down here, someone needs to go after them."

Kate realized that he was right. She hadn't really considered what would happen after she and Jack escaped. She had been too focused on getting him to help. Of course the Others wouldn't be happy just letting them leave.

"We'll get a group together," she said. "Sayid, and Jin."

"Yeah, well, we only got three guns," Sawyer said. "I figure that measures for you, me, and the Master Torturer. Ain't got room for more."

"Sayid has a gun," Kate said. "Remember?"

"Fine," Sawyer nodded his head. "Get together the merry men. We leave at sundown."


	7. Chapter 7

**_The great question; who_IS _Neil the Frogurt guy? Well, we've never actually MET Neil the Frogurt guy. In SOS, when Bernard was wandering around trying to find people to help him build his SOS he went up and talked to Hurley "about the frogurt guy" and Hurley went "Neil?" And I decided that it was the most inspired character ever._**

**_So now we're really cooking._**

Neil was waiting for the guns, rather patiently he thought. Especially considering that he couldn't go to the beach without them, not after having told everyone else that it was dangerous. And especially considering the fact that ever since Janelle had decided she wanted to be let in on his little excursion, she wouldn't leave him alone.

"We've been over this!" Neil finally snapped in frustration. "Nobody goes to the beach without the guns."

"Kate just did," Janelle said smugly. She crossed her arms under her breasts. Neil fought very hard to keep his eyes on her face. The woman wore ridiculously low-cut shirts, and he had no doubt that she knew what it looked like when she pushed her. . .assets. . .up like that.

"What do you mean, Kate just did?" Neil asked irritably. "She went to Sawyer's stash. We have no idea where it is." He paused and thought about that statement for a while. Had they really just let Kate wander off on her own? The same pretty, stupid Kate who had now been captured by the Others twice? Damn it, he thought. That was precisely the reason why he hated being a leader. When he was a dumb follower, stupid things like this didn't happen.

"Sawyer's stash is on the beach," Janelle said. She looked at Neil's face, clearly reading the disgust and concern written across his features. "Look," she said, almost sweetly now. "It wasn't all your fault. Jack should have stopped her, too."

"We're still sticking to the rules," Neil insisted. "No guns, no beach."

That put Janelle back on the defensive quickly. She stepped back, crossed her arms again, and popped out a hip. Neil groaned. Why did this woman seem to know exactly what positions her body looked best in?

"So we're going to let Kate wander around wherever, but we can't take a group of big, strong men down to the beach to light a fire? Doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense to me."

"Fine, good point," Neil said, finally having seen a way to escape. He smiled at her, as brightly as he could manage given the circumstances. "I'll take a group o f big, strong men and we'll go down to the beach. See you later, sister."

Janelle seemed to recognize her mistake, because she hurried along behind him. "I'm still coming," she insisted. "I can help. Do you even know how to start a fire?"

Neil spied Hurley in a corner, and hurried over to the large man. "Yeah," he said over his shoulder. "They're called matches."

"Hey, dude," Hurley greeted him, sounding somewhat more chipper than he had of late.

"Hey," Neil said, sitting down beside Hurley. Then, considering that Janelle was still staring daggers at his back, decided it might be safer to stand. "Listen, we're heading down to the beach soon, to start up the signal fire again. You want to come?"

"Nah," Hurley shook his head, and sunk into himself more again. "I think I'll just stay here."

"Fine," Neil said. What he thought however, ran something along the lines of 'way to wallow in self-pity.'

Fortunately Steve was much more eager to help out, as was Jin, and Lance even popped up, his glasses finally found and perched on his nose, and volunteered to come along. Neil made sure that everyone had water and food, before turning to the cave's exit. Janelle fell into step behind the rest of the men. Neil ignored her. There was no way to leave her behind, he was realizing hopelessly. He really wished they had the guns.

As if on cue with his thoughts, Kate practically ran in the entrance, and hurried to Jack, who was calmly inspecting his own leg at the back of the caves. Neil asked the other members of his little signal party to wait, and hurried over, anxious to see what the status was on the guns.

"Hey, Kate," Jack said. Neil hopped from one foot to the other. Just get to the guns, he thought. Jack glanced at the woman's empty hands."Where are the guns?"

"I don't have them," Kate said, but with a suppressed tremor of excitement. Neil tried to exchange a confused glance with Jack, but all he got was the doctor's side of the face. Jack stood up, grimacing slightly as he put some weight on his injured leg.

"What do you mean, you don't have them?" he asked. Kate's face broke into a wide smile.

"Sawyer's back!" She said, as if that explained anything. Jack's face fell, and a look of disappointment washed across it. Neil peered at him intently. Nobody on the island like Sawyer, but he'd been sure that nobody actually wanted him dead, or captured. Yet Jack looked definitely unhappy that he was back.

"That's great," the doctor said, his voice falling flat. "How is he? I should probably examine him."

"He's fine," Kate said, brushing off the conman's position as though it was of little relevance. "But tomorrow we're going out to hunt down the Others."

"Whoa, now!" Neil couldn't help himself from exclaiming, despite his decision to remain silent. Kate and Jack both swivelled to look at him. He held up his hands in self-defense. "It's just that last time that didn't work so well," he explained. "I mean, Michael and Walt disappeared, and you were all captured."

"Yeah, but this time we have someone we can really trust to lead us," Kate said. Neil stared at her blankly for a moment. By someone trustworthy, was she talking about Sawyer? Sawyer, who had a massive stash of people's things? Sawyer, who had conned them all out of the guns? Sawyer, who had revealed her past as a fugitive? Somehow he wasn't connecting the dots.

"So we're not getting the guns?" he asked, just wanting to make sure. Kate gave him a pitying gaze, and shook her head. Jack put a hand on the woman's shoulder, clearly intent on arguing with her. Neil didn't want to hear any of it. They weren't getting the guns, and that was what mattered to him and the men going down to the beach with him.

"So?" Janelle said when he walked over. "Do we get them?"

"No," he said shortly. Janelle rolled her eyes.

"Didn't think so," she said. "We should have just gone to Sawyer's to get them."

"Would you stop saying that?" Neil said irritably. He began walking out of the caves, and the other men quickly gathered their things to follow him. "Besides, how did you even know where Sawyer's stash was? He hid it, nobody knew where it was."

"It's just sitting in his lean-to," Janelle said airily, as though it were the most obvoius thing in the world.

"And what were you doing in there?" Neil asked.

"Sawyer and I had. . .an agreement," Janelle responded. Neil's eyes widened a little at that, and he decided to let it drop. The last thing he needed was to hear about Janelle's sexual escapades.

* * *

Charlie didn't understand why Sayid couldn't have led the so-called rescue efforts. After all, the Iraqi was the one who had been so focused on them finding Desmond in the first place. But he had disappeared the moment word had spread that Sawyer was back. Leaving Charlie as the only one who apparently remembered that Desmond was still presumably buried somewhere in the hatch.

Thus, him, out walking in the morning air at 6 in the morning, a time when he would much rather be sleeping. The mist on the grass was, admittedly freaking him out a little, and when a patch of grass to his left began rustling, he became even more freaked.

He leaned down, and grabbed a stick off the ground. Realizing that it was a pathetic twig, he tried again, and his time managed one about the length and thickness of his forearm. He stood again, holding the stick forward as menacingly as he possibly could.

"Who's there?" he yelled. His only response was a giggle, and a moment later an angel carrying a baby walked onto his path.

"Hi, Charlie," Claire said brightly. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Heading to the hatch," he said, somewhat confused. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Aaron was fussing," Claire said, smiling with maternal pride down on the child. "I thought a walk might do him good."

"So you took him to the hatch?" Charlie asked, confused. For the past week Neil had been insisting that everyone stay near the caves, unless going out with another person. He'd been failing miserably.

Claire didn't seem to have an answer for this, but Charlie was glad to see that she seemed comfortable walking with him toward the underground building.

"I thought we found everyone in the hatch," she said after a few moments. "Locke and Eko."

"And Desmond," Charlie added. Claire looked confused. "The original button-pusher," Charlie explained. "Scottish, bad hair, could use a shave, crazy look in his eyes. . ."

"Oh, him," Claire said with understated disgust. "He was talking to me about fatherhood. Trying to excuse Tom for cutting and running."

Charlie nodded his head. They'd arrived at the hatch. He looked at Claire awkwardly, wanting her to stay with him, but at the same time not wanting to ask too much of her. Their relationship was definitely on the mend, but he was still terrified of doing anything to jeopardize the fragile buddings of romance.

"Well," he said. "I guess I'd better go in. Sayid said that Desmond is down a chute behind the computers."

"I'll come with," Claire said hurriedly, clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as Charlie. She bounced Aaron a little in her arms, and then followed him into the dim confines of the hatch.

As always, Charlie froze at his first sight of the inside of the hatch. Everything was so. . .destroyed. He shook it off, and hurried to the stupid computer room. He hadn't been in there yet. . .nobody had bothered. Wires were thrown throughout the floor, and the computer looked as though it had been thrown on the floor.

"Oh, Charlie," Claire gasped. He didn't say anything, just carefully walked over twisted wires and fallen towers to behind the desk where the computer had once stood. Sure enough, there behind it was a small door, leading down. Claire spotted it at the same time as Charlie.

"Don't go down there," she said softly. "I don't know what's down there but. . .but I don't like it. Don't go there."

"But, Desmond. . ."

Claire bit her lip. "Okay," she said finally. "But I'm standing right here. Don't you even think about getting trapped down there, or getting hurt. . ."

Charlie was touched by her concern, but the near-panic in her voice was frightening him as well. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, forcing a somewhat manic grin across his face.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be right back."

The minute he turned his back to her, the smile fell, and he swallowed the giant bug of fright that had filled his throat. This had to be done, he reminded himself. Poor bloke down there had been trapped for almost a week. That was what really scared him. If the initial blast hadn't killed him, there was a good chance that any sustained injuries would have. His hand trembled a little.

He exited the small shoot into a narrow hallway, all concrete and steel walls. To the left it deadended into a wall. To the right there seemed to be some kind of pile. . .

As he walked closer, he was dismayed to see that a bundle of clothes was lying on the ground. And, sure enough, within those clothes was a man, unconscious.

"Oh, bollocks," Charlie breathed, dropping to his knees. He shook the man, uncertain what to do exactly to check and see if he was alive. Luckily, the man groaned a little. Charlie breathed in deeply in relief, and rolled him over to his back.

"Desmond?" he asked. "Hey, are you okay?"

The man slowly opened his eyes, and then licked his lips. "What. . ." he asked creakily. Charlie's face broke into a broad grin.

"You saved our lives," he said excitedly. "And you're alive, too!" Desmond groaned again, and Charlie realized with a start that the man must be badly hurt, and half-starved and dehydrated as well. "We'd better get you back to Jack," he decided, and looped one of Desmond's arms over his shoulder. He almost fell on his butt when he tried to stand, the added weight of the other man throwing him off-balance, but slowly he began to shuffle back toward the computer room.

"You're going to be all right," he assured Desmond. "We all are."

* * *

Kate didn't know exactly what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't this. She hadn't expected three guns shared among four people. She hadn't expected Sayid to disappear on them, or Hurley to join them. She hadn't expected Sawyer to be so cold and distant. And she definitely, _definitely_ hadn't expected Jack to come with them.

He'd followed her down to Sawyer's tent in the morning, insisting that it was his fault they were all in the mess, and that there was no way he was going to stay behind. Kate had pleaded with him not to go. . .his leg was still hurting him, and a jungle trek would only make it worse. But he'd insisted, and Sawyer, giving him one of the those frustrating man-to-man looks, had agreed.

"Stop," Sawyer said suddenly, raising a hand. It was the first word he'd spoken in hours, despite Kate's constant attempts to talk with him. It was as though he were cutting himself off for some reason. . .separating from the rest of the group. It all gave her a very uncomfortable feeling.

"What do you mean, stop?" Jack asked. His face was haggard from pain, and one arm was slung over Hurley's shoulder. His other hand loosely held a gun, currently pointing at the ground. Kate turned to look at Sawyer, and for the first time noticed that the sun was slowly setting.

"Dude," Hurley said, his eyes scanning the dark jungle. "We're not there already, are we?"

"Not yet," Sawyer said shortly, dropping his pack to the ground. "But it's only an hour or two away. We should make camp, get some shut eye before attacking. We'll move in just before dawn."

Jack collapsed to the ground, and Kate hurried over to him.

"Are you all right?" she asked. He smiled up at her, wanly.

"I'm all right for this," he said. He turned to Sawyer. "If we're that close, we should post a watch," he said. Sawyer glanced at him for a moment.

"Good one," he said.

"I'll take the first watch," Kate said quickly. She knew that if she didn't speak up, the men would end up staying up the night, letting her sleep. And that was definitely not an option, especially not with Jack in so much pain.

"Fine," Sawyer said. "I'll take second."

Kate didn't understand what had come over the conman. He was never the most sociable of men, but he hadn't cracked a joke or made a perverse comment all day. His strange attitude didn't change while they were setting up camp, either, but nobody seemed to notice. They all ate a somber meal of nurtibars, before settling down for the night. Kate sighed, watching as everyone closed their eyes. She couldn't help feeling hopeless. Everything had fallen apart. They were supposed to be going back strong, with everybody together. But Neil and the other survivors had taken off to the beach, to keep the fire going. Charlie had disappeared before she'd even waken up. Sayid had been there, in the morning, but had muttered something about Desmond before leaving.

So now they were back to the original four. She sighed, and looked at all of them. The original four, who had failed so miserably last time.

Hurley, who had such a good heart. He'd come because Jack had come, and because of Sawyer and Kate. Because they were his friends. He hadn't come to get revenge for Libby. That revenge had already sailed away, and unlike Sayid, he wasn't able to hold a grudge against a theory.

And Sawyer, who had to know how hopeless this all was. He wasn't stupid, no matter what people thought. Kate smiled at him. His face wore a small frown, even in sleep. He was so guarded. . .he didn't let anyone in. She knew that he was hiding something from everyone. But she trusted him. She didn't know why, but she did. Maybe because he was so much like her.

And Jack, Jack who held everyone together, Jack who was the foundation of their little civilization, Jack who was slowly coming apart at the seams. And the more desperate and pained he became, the more she fell for him. Jack was here because he wanted to protect everyone. Jack was here for all the right reasons.

She stared into the jungle, clutching her gun even more tightly. Jack and Sawyer both had their guns on them, tucked into the waistbands on their pants. Jack had protested at first, asking how it would be possible to sleep with a ram of metal up his back, but Sawyer had pointed out that if, somehow, the Others did find them, they'd want to have their guns on them. Jack had reluctantly agreed.

The hours slowly ticked by, and the fires began to burn down. Kate watched them wearily. How was she supposed to know when her watch was over? When she was no longer able to stay awake, she supposed. Which, as much as she hated to admit it, was right now. She yawned, and shuffled over to Sawyer. He awoke the minute her hand touched his shoulder.

"Hey," she said. "Your turn."

"Thanks, Freckles," he said, shooting her a shadow of his former smile. Kate stared at him for a moment, fighting with a desire to ask him what was wrong, and to just let it be. Maybe, after all, he wanted to be alone. But she didn't.

"Sawyer," she said. He turned to look at her, an expectant shine in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothing wrong, sweetcheeks," he said. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"Why are we here?" she asked again, trying to keep her voice low. "You know we don't have a chance. It's just the four of us, and Hurley's probably never fired a gun in his life."

"Don't worry, Freckles," he said smoothly. "I've got a plan."

"Yeah, well, that's what Jack said, and look where he got us." She knew that she sounded snotty, but she couldn't help it. That note of terror was risining in her inner core again. Something was wrong, so very wrong, she ould just feel it.

"Kate," he said after a moment. "Do you trust me?"

She stared at him for a moment. She couldn't read his face. She didn't know what answer he wanted, so she elected to just tell him the truth. "Yes," she said. "I do."

Sawyer's face lightened a little, as though he were happy. He stepped closer to her, and smiled down at her, his breath glancing off her forehead. Roughly, he grasped her arms and pulled her closer to him, and a moment later his lips were on hers. She didn't pull away.

A moment into the kiss, however, something sharp struck her arm. She jerked back with a gasp, almost as hurt by the end of the kiss as by the pain in her arm. She stared down at a small dart poking out of her arm. Sawyer didn't seem at all disturbed. He still held her, keeping her upright even when all of the strength had drained out of her body. Gently, he lowered her to the ground. The last thing she saw before the world went black was his face, still smiling.

"Wrong, Freckles," he said. "I ain't a man to trust. Told you. Tiger don't change his stripes."


	8. Chapter 8

Gale was smiling. Everything had gone so well. His men had informed him that Ford had more than delivered on his promise, and was now just a few hundred yards outside of their camp.

His smile only grew wider as he walked into the small, pitiful campsite that the survivors had erected. Ford was standing in the center, idly poking at the dying embers of a fire, while the rest of them lay, unconscious on the ground.

"Can we be certain this isn't a trick?" I asked Tom.

"Yes, sir," Tom said immediately, practically saluting me. "I've been out here all night, watching them just like you asked me to. Mr. Ford kissed the little lady, and then went right ahead and drugged her up."

"Good," Gale nodded briskly. He motioned with his hand, before walking into the camp. Ford's head jerked up at his entrance. "You did well, boy," Gale said. "Not only did you bring us Mr. Shepherd and Ms. Austen, but Mr. Reyes as well." He peered at the slumbering forms more closely, and realized that Ford had even gone to the trouble of tying their hands together. "Very well, indeed."

"Don't call me boy," Ford growled, completely ignoring all of the compliments. But, Gale supposed that was just part of his supposed charm. "Now where's my way off this rock?"

Gale glanced up at the sky. The sun was only just clearing the top of the trees. "It won't be here for an hour or so," he said. Ford narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Gale ignored him. He glanced at the four sleeping figures.

"I hadn't anticipated Mr. Reyes," he murmured. "I'll have to go back and get some more help."

"Don't bother," Ford said, inexplicably. Gale turned to him, a slight smile on his face, prepared to ask exactly what _that_ meant, when he found himself face to face with the end of a gun. On the ground, Shepherd groaned and rolled over while Austen slowly blinked open her eyes.

"What are they doing awake?" Gale asked, trying to keep panic out of his voice. "That sedative should have kept them unconscious for days."

"Not on a quarter dose," Ford replied. Shepherd jerked, and grabbed for a gun out of his back pocket. The bindings on his wrists fell easily away.

"Men!" Gale ordered, and heard the sounds of a dozen guns being readied. Shepherd and Austen had risen to their feet now. Shepherd had his gun fixed on Tom unwaveringly, but Austen seemed uncertain whether she should be firing at his men, or at Ford himself.

"Seems we got ourselves a little Mexican standoff," Ford drawled, and his mouth began to drag upward in what could only be considered a smile. That was enough to make Gale want to laugh.

"Except you're outnumbered," Gale pointed out. A moment later, however, he felt the hard end of a pistol shoved into his back, and he was rudely pushed into the clearing.

"There, my friend, you are wrong," An Iraqi voice hissed into his ear. A moment later the ten men who had been with him were similarly pushed into the clearing. He glared at all of his men. How the hell had they all been captured? The survivors couldn't have had more then five guns between them!

"Excellent job, Neil," Jarrah said, nodding to one of the bigger of the men. He shrugged, and roughly pushed Tony to the ground.

"I didn't think they'd fall for it so easily," Neil said. He easily pulled the gun out of Tony's hand, and dropped what was nothing more than a blunt stick to the ground. Throughout the clearing, the rest of the men did the same. Gale groaned.

Reyes let out a loud snort, and Austen, with a laugh, went to her knees and gently shook him until he fully woke up.

"What happened?" Reyes asked in the dumbest voice imaginable. Austen pretended to pull him to his feet, although any idiot would know that a man of Reyes weight could have pulled the smaller woman to the ground. After getting to his feet, Reyes looked around and finally saw Gale and his men. Realization seemed to settle across his fat, stupid face. "Ohhh," he said.

"Listen," Gale growled at Jarrah as he was roughly manhandled and tied to a tree. A tree, of all things! "You don't want to do this. He'll be coming soon, and I've already told you. . .He is not a forgiving man."

"Neither am I," Jarrah said, and pulled the bindings even tighter.

* * *

Neil had finally been calming down after an hour spent on the beach. He and Steve had gathered together enough logs and sticks to keep the fire burning brightly throughout the night, and Jin and Lance had caught fish to eat. Janelle had handed over a few mangoes, completing the feast and proving to Neil that she wasn't completely and totally useless.

"Cold?" he asked her after dinner, as she inched a bit closer to the fire. He didn't blame her. What with a pair of jeans and a tube top that barely covered her breasts, he would have been freezing himself, even in the warm night air.

"You want to come over and warm me up?" she asked him, one eyebrow raised provocatively. He took a deep breath. What on earth had this woman done off the island that she was so crazy?

Apparently he'd said the words out loud, because Janelle began to answer the question. Either that or she was pregnant.

"I left home at seventeen," she said. "Had to find someway to make it through the world. Trust me. . .I'm good."

"Okay," Neil said, attempting to sound confident but coming out with a bit of a warble. He coughed, and cleared his throat. "Good for you."

"For crying out loud, Neil," she suddenly exclaimed. "We can't all be businessmen!"

He had no idea why she was suddenly going off on him, and was almost relieved when a dark figure began approaching their fire. Mostly he was just scared enough to piss his pants.

"Jin? Neil?"

"Sayid," Jin said, pointing to the figure, followed by a clear and distinct "Hello."

"Hello," The Iraqi said, easing himself down by the fire. He nodded at it appreciatively. "You have done an excellent job."

"Thanks," Neil said uncomfortably. He just couldn't get used to people thanking him and complimenting him. It was weird. He was just Neil, the Frogurt guy who spent more time moving around pieces of the fuselage than doing anything useful.

"I Need you to help me," Sayid said then, and glanced at everyone hunkered around the fire. "All of you."

"We're kind of busy here," Neil pointed out. He then noticed how ridiculous that statement was, since they were all just sitting around watching the fire burn. "I mean, not right now, this second, but we need to be here, to watch the fire."

"I know that this is very important," Sayid said, and Neil could have hit himself over the head. Of course Sayid knew—he was the one who had started the signal fire in the first place! "But what I have to do is even more so."

"What's that?" Janelle asked, scootching herself over to where the two men were speaking. Neil suddenly found himself very conscious of her warm thigh, so near to his own.

"I am going after the Others," Sayid explained. That caught Jin's attention, and the large Korean man instantly came over to join them.

"Hate to break it to you," Neil said regretfully. "But Jack, Sawyer and the rest of them left around noon."

"I am aware of this," Sayid said, and then, as though with difficulty, added "Sawyer is leading them into a trap."

"Asshole!" Janelle yelled, instantly leaping to her feet. "I mean, he was always a dick, but what a complete and total asshole!"

Sayid smiled a little. "While normally I would agree with your description, I am afraid that in this case he is doing good," he said. "He has told me about it. He provides the bait, and I provide the trap."

"So let me make sure I got this right," Neil said slowly, puzzling it out as he spoke. "You want us to go and basically rescue the Ateam from the Others."

"Correct," Sayid inclined his head. Neil didn't understand how he could be so calm in the situation.

"We don't even have any guns!"

Sayid smiled, and held up a small, thick stick. "They don't need to know that," he said.

Neil couldn't believe that Sayid was proposing this. Sayid, who was always calm, who actually knew how to think, who never let the desire for revenge overcome his good sense.

"Fire?" Jin asked, apparently the only one who remembered the fire. Janelle stepped forward.

"I'll watch it," she said. Neil stared at her, amazed that she didn't want to come with. She looked at him, an expression somewhere between shame and indignation on her face. "What?" she asked. "I can't use a gun, I don't exactly look intimidating. . .what good would I do?"

Neil decided that it would not be a good time to mention that he thought she looked very intimidating indeed. He turned to Sayid and sighed. "All right. Let's get going."

* * *

Kate blinked slowly into consciousness, only to find herself bound and lying on the ground. Memory came flooding back to her. . .the kiss and Sawyer's subsequent betrayal.

"What are they doing awake? That sedative should have kept them unconscious for hours."

Kate's eyes scanned the area, and lit upon the scowling figure of Henry Gale. Jack began to groan and thrash around to her left, and when she looked at him, she saw him easily opening his hands despite the bindings, and grabbing his gun. Kate remembered Sawyer insisting that they sleep with the guns on their persons. She reached back, and sure enough there was hers. And, sure enough, the rope tied around her wrists easily slid off.

"Not on a quarter dose," Sawyer ground out. Austen stood up, and moved her gun to sight at Gale. She couldn't keep her gaze from sliding back to Sawyer, however. Had he betrayed them or not?

"Seems we got ourselves a little Mexican standoff," Sawyer drawled. Kate couldn't take her eyes off him. Did he not realize what was going on? Was he not aware that they were surrounded by Others, and that their three guns didn't stand a chance? Gale clearly did, as he made a comment similar. Kate took a deep breath. Her hand trembled. Should she just shoot Gale? Take down the leader at least?

But just then Sayid's head appeared over Gale's shoulder, and he pushed the Other leader into the clearing. All around, more khacki-clad men were shoved in by other survivors.

Suddenly, on the ground, Hurley emitted an especially loud snore. That was enough to calm Kate down, the utter mundanity of it all. She knelt beside him, and carefully shook him awake.

"What happened?" Hurley asked, clearly still seeing the fear written across her face. He glanced over and saw Sawyer, Sayid, and Jin herding the Others around one tree and lashing them to it. "Ohh. . ." he said. Kate offered him a hand, and assisted him to his feet.

"So where is this vessel?" Sayid asked Sawyer. Kate's ears perked. Was there a possibility of escape?

"Don't know," Sawyer said. "I was waiting for them to tell me, but somebody jumped the gun, jihad."

"Would you have rather been shot?" Sayid asked coolly, ignoring the insult. Sawyer shifted his shoulders a little. Kate still couldn't decide whether she felt betrayed or relieved at his con.

Sawyer coughed a little, and turned to look at her. Kate stepped backwards a step, trying to avoid his stare. She found herself backing straight into Jack, who smiled down at her, a weak, tired smile. She forced one in exchange.

"Freckles," Sawyer said, his voice strained and cracking. She ignored him, and pulled one of Jack's arms over her shoulder. She could tell that his strength was failing him.

"Are you all right?" she asked. Jack nodded.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time," he said.

"Kate," Sawyer said her name again, and this time the pain in it was apparent, even to Jack. The doctor stiffened, and then slowly removed his arm and nudged her.

"What?" she asked, looking at him. "You need my help."

"I think he needs you more," Jack said.

Kate didn't move for a moment, frozen by his words. She looked into his eyes, and saw a pain there far different than that of his still healing leg. Hurley came over silently, and Jack leaned on the larger man. Kate bit her lower lip and, blinking back tears as the vision of a perfect future disappeared, turned to Sawyer.

"What do you want?" she asked lowly.

"Nothing," he rasped, but his eyes begged for forgiveness.

"You could have told me," she said. "You didn't have to lie to me again."

"Couldn't tell you," Sawyer said lowly. Strands of his hair fell into his eyes, and before Kate could stop herself, she was pushing them back. Sawyer blue eyes met her green ones, and for just a moment

"He's coming!" Gale suddenly screamed, breaking the tension in the air and replacing it with new fear. "He's coming!"

Kate looked around nervously, uncertain just who could be coming. Sawyer pulled out his gun, and held it tightly, his eyes scanning the area. A gun roared, and Sawyer swore as he dropped the gun, clutching his bleeding hand tightly. Kate gasped. Neil cried out in pain. Gale roared in triumph. And then the leaves parted.

"Michael?" Hurley asked in disbelief. But sure enough it was Michael, tightly holding hands with his son. Behind them marched two dark-skinned men, one clutching a still smoking gun,and behind them a woman.

"Hey, Hurley!" Walt said chipperly. A broad grin crossed his face, and he began waving to everyone. "Hi, Dr. Jack! Hi Kate! Hey, Sawyer! Hi, Neil! What's up, Lance?. . ."

Kate frowned as she looked at the boy, and then at his father. True, almost a month had passed since she'd seen him, but it looked as though he'd grown almost a foot, and as though he was finally beginning to lose some of the baby fat. But that didn't make sense.

Gale was still screaming, and the woman looked over at him disdainfully. "Would someone stop that racket?" she asked. Sayid glanced at her, an inscrutable expression in his dark eyes, before he went over and slammed Gale hard on the head with the blunt of his pistol. The woman nodded in satisfaction.

"Now then," the woman said, turning back to all of them. "Who are you people, what are you doing on my island, and why the hell did you stop pushing the button?"

_**And here ends the six episode beginning of Season III. Or at least, estrafalaria's version of Season III. And, like the real show next year, you only get a few episodes (eight in my case, instead of seven) beforee a long hiatus before I continue (if I do!). Unlike Lost, however, my hiatus will not be due to a laziness in producing enough work—it will, rather be the result of a move to Mexico, and a consequent inability to use the internet.**_

_**So, I hope you all enjoyed my little voyage into the Lost universe, and forgive me for leaving you with a cliffhanger and a thousand questions so reminiscent of the real show. Trust me, though, for my AU I do have the answers. What resulted when the button stopped being pushed? Who is the woman, and how does she know all of these things? Will Desmond live? Where did the Others come from? What do the numbers and the black smoke mean (okay, I'll be honest, I don't have the answers to that.) Will Rousseau and Alex ever meet? What about Vincent?**_

_**And the burning questions everyone wants the answers to: what's with Janelle, and how cool is Neil the Frogurt guy?**_


End file.
